


Ripple Effect

by paperstorm



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-13
Updated: 2011-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:57:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared has a crappy day (or two) and Jensen makes him feel better. Takes place in October, 2010.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ripple Effect

**Title** : Ripple Effect  
 **Word Count** : 7500  
 **Fandom** : RPS  
 **Pairing** : Jared/Jensen  
 **Other RP Characters** : Jeff Padalecki  
 **Rating** : NC-17  
 **Warnings** : schmoop, non-AU, established relationship, rimming, very brief mentions of Clif Kosterman, Misha Collins, Chad Michael Murray, Bob Singer and Talia Derksen

 **Author's Notes** : This fic was written for my friend [](http://slf630.livejournal.com/profile)[**slf630**](http://slf630.livejournal.com/) , because she's going through a hard time right now and the best way I could think to cheer her up is with porn. Love you, bb! Hope this makes you smile.

It started with _one of those days_. The kind where every single thing that could possibly go wrong _does_. The kind where at the end, it feels like the entire world has clandestinely conspired to systematically break Jared down, one brick at a time. Like he’s a life-sized game of Jenga, and everyone he encountered all day had been offered a million dollars if they were the one to pull the final block free and make the tower crumble.

He woke up with a wicked crimp in his neck from sleeping smushed up against the headboard, because apparently Sadie had decided to worm herself between him and Jensen and then spread out like the bed belonged to her. Jared was cold and distant with her all morning – even pushing her away when she crept up to him with her tail between her legs and laid her head on his knee – and then later, on the ride to set, he felt so terrible about it he was actually a little queasy. She’s a dog; she didn’t understand what she’d done wrong. But then the freakin’ twelve year old kid at Starbucks got his coffee wrong (like, not just forgot-to-leave-room-for-cream wrong, she gave him something _completely_ different from what he ordered and by the time he noticed it was too late to go back) and any thoughts of Sadie’s sad, brown eyes just flew out the window and Jared sank back into his original state of grumpiness. If Jensen noticed, he didn’t say anything, and that was almost worse. Jared felt like if Jensen had asked him what was wrong and he could’ve just bitched about it for a few minutes maybe then he’d have been able to let it go, but Jensen spent the whole car-ride with his nose buried in his Blackberry and Jared didn’t bother him.

After Clif dropped them off, they were both hustled into hair and makeup as usual, but for some reason it seemed to take twice as long to make Jared’s runaway hair look halfway presentable, and the cracks the girls made about it didn’t do anything to brighten Jared’s already stormy mood. It’s not his fault his hair is stubborn sometimes. It’s not like he has any control over it, and besides; doing him up is basically the only thing those two actually _do_ there so maybe the real problem is that they just suck at their so-called job. In retrospect Jared may have overreacted, but then again maybe not since when they _finally_ cut him loose he was way behind schedule and Talia from wardrobe acted like Jared had told his hair to act up on purpose just to piss her off. And then she tried to put him in a shirt that was at least two sizes too small, the idiot. Of _course_ it ripped when he moved; the damn thing probably would’ve been too small on _Misha_ , and then Tal bitched at him like _that_ was his fault too.

Jared was in such a funk by the time he met up with the stunt co-coordinators that it took him almost twenty takes to get a simple ‘thrown against a wall’ shot that would usually have taken him no more than five. Everyone kept giving him these funny looks too, like they were stuck between worried about him and annoyed with him, and at one point Jared even heard one of the PA’s quietly ask Bob if she should go get Jensen. Jared snapped and nearly bit the poor girl’s head off. He couldn’t help it – he’s a grown man, for fuck’s sake! He didn’t need _Jensen_ to come calm him down like some kind of petulant child. When Bob finally called the final ‘cut’, grumbling under his breath that hopefully they could find _something_ usable from all that, Jared just clenched his fists to keep from punching someone and all but stormed away. The rest of his day didn’t run any smoother; he flubbed lines and missed so many cues and marks that eventually Bob just gave up on him and told him to go home. Jared was so frustrated with himself and irritated with everyone else that he wouldn’t let them call Clif – he just grabbed his bag and phoned for a cab, not even bothering to let Jensen know he was leaving.

And then, to make everything about a million times worse, he got a call from his veterinarian on the drive home – a follow up from their annual check up last week to let him know Harley’s biopsy came back and he would, in fact, need to go under general anesthetic to have that lump removed. Jared’s heart dropped about a foot into his stomach at the thought of one of his babies needing surgery, and evidentially he turned so green that when the taxi driver caught sight of him in the rear view mirror he panicked and almost drove off the road. Jared had worked himself up so much by the time he got home that he grabbed Harley and spent a good fifteen minutes with his face buried in the warm, soft fur; breathing deeply and struggling not to cry. Harley just sat there obediently and allowed himself to be squeezed lifeless, and Sadie pushed her wet nose against Jared’s cheek a few times like she was asking if he was okay; none of which actually made it any easier to hold back the threatening tears because the two of them were so _good_ and he was probably freaking them out over nothing.

He’d debated phoning Jensen, his mom, hell even _Chad_ , but Jared knew he was overreacting again so instead he took a long shower in the hopes that the hot water would rinse the terrible day down the drain. It didn’t. Jared came out clean and refreshed, but that itchy, uncomfortable feeling was still twisting in his gut. Jensen was there when Jared made his way downstairs – seated at their kitchen table, hunched over a stack of papers that was likely the new contract he’d mentioned his agent sent over the other day. He’d muttered a vague greeting but didn’t really look up as Jared entered the room, and when Jared brought up Harley and the call from the vet, Jensen just shushed him and that was _it_. The end, done; he quit. Jared turned on his heel, marched back upstairs, stripped down to his boxers and got into bed even though it was still light out.

All of which culminates to a nasty head when his phone rings way, _way_ too early the next morning; the shrill tones jerking him uncomfortably out of a restless sleep. His head pounds violently behind his eyes as he rolls over toward the offensive noise sounding from his dresser. The faint silver light filtering in from between the closed drapes is so bright it’s painful, and as Jared blinks slowly to clear his fuzzy vision, he notices with a horrible sinking feeling that he’s alone. Jensen’s side of the bed is as perfectly smooth as it was last night – does that mean he never even came to bed? The piercing ringing is getting maddeningly obnoxious and short of Jared throwing it across the room the only way he can make it stop is by answering, so he reaches gingerly over and picks up the buzzing black device from the bedside table and brings it to his ear.

“Yeah?” he answers, his voice scratchy from sleep.

“What up, douchebag?!” comes the loud, enthusiastic response.

Jared blinks a few more times, rubbing roughly at one eye as his brain attempts to focus. “Jeff?”

“Yeah, fag, who’d you think it was?”

Jared groans. “Dude, it’s like …” – he glances toward the clock radio – “seven thirty in the morning.”

“It is?” Jeff sounds genuinely surprised. “Are you sure?”

“What the fuck, of course I’m sure!” Jared snaps, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight and huffing in annoyance. “I’ve lived on the west coast for almost _eight years_. How is it possible you haven’t figured out the time difference yet?”

“Dunno, sorry bro,” Jeff laughs good-naturedly, but Jared isn’t amused.

He heaves himself off the bed and shuffles towards the door as Jeff starts rambling on about his new boss, or dental floss, or some kind of sauce or _something_ equally inane. Jared’s barely listening anyway. He’s not usually this grumpy in the mornings, and he usually gets along with his brother a lot better than he is right now, but if he _maybe_ woke up on the wrong side of the bed yesterday he _definitely_ did today. His bare feet stick to the hardwood as he slumps heavily down the stairs, and when he gets to the main floor, a quick glance into Jensen’s bedroom finds his boyfriend curled up under a mountain of sheets in the bed Jensen hasn’t actually used in over a year. Jared’s gut twists agonizingly. He’d assumed Jensen was pissed at him, but he didn’t think he was _that_ pissed. It’s not like it’s the first time they’ve ever gotten on each other’s nerves. They’ve been friends for six years; lived together for nearly four and have been dating for almost three. They’ve had stupid little fights before, plenty of them. But Jared can barely remember the last time they slept apart.

“Did you actually want something?” he asks shortly, cutting Jeff off mid-sentence.

“Is it a crime to want to check on my favorite little brother?” Jeff sounds a little bit hurt and a little bit annoyed and Jared finds he doesn’t care at all.

“I’m your only little brother, dickbag.” Jared rubs the back of his hand across his nose and tiptoes into the kitchen; even though seeing Jensen back in his own room leaves a harsh burn in his chest, it’s still seven thirty on a Saturday morning and Jared doesn’t want to be the jerk that wakes Jensen up on his day off.

“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ, what crawled up _your_ ass and died?” Jeff demands. “Fine, if you’re not feelin’ small talk, I just called to say I caught your show last night. It was good, man. I should watch it more often.”

Jared’s breath catches as he bites back the angry retort that tries to burst out of his mouth. _C’mon, he’s your brother. He’s trying to be nice._

“I … thanks, I guess. Sorry, which episode aired last night?” Jared asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“The one where you were half naked at the beginning with some hooker,” Jeff says evenly, a definite a smirk in his voice.

 _Oh_. Jared flinches. “So you’re calling to … what, exactly? Tell me I looked stupid?”

Jeff barks a laugh. “Christ, no. You and your ridiculously rippled chest, doin’ chin ups and all greased up lookin’ like you belong on Baywatch? Yeah, no, you didn’t look stupid at all.”

Jared closes his eyes and clenches his jaw so tight it hurts. Jeff is just teasing, Jared knows he is. They’re _brothers_ , they’re supposed to give each other a hard time. But for some reason that comment really doesn’t sit right in Jared’s stomach. He’d had serious reservations about that scene when he first found out about it a few months ago; he _knew_ he’d look ridiculous all sweaty like that and he _knew_ people would think it was just some cheap ploy to pull in viewers, like that douchey Twilight kid who can’t seem to keep his clothes on for more than one line. Jared takes a deep breath before he speaks, reaching into the fridge and pouring himself a glass of milk as he tries to keep his cool.

“It was important to the plot, okay?” he grinds out.

“Oh, c’mon, is that what they told you? And you believed them?” Jeff laughs lightly again. “I’m pretty sure that little scene was more for the hordes squealing teenage girls. What did they pour all over you anyway, cooking oil? You’re practically a whore, kiddo.”

Jared’s whole body goes rigid in a hot wave of fury. He is so _not_ in the mood for this today.

“Look, they – they needed to show how Sam’s become this badass hunter and bulked up cause all he cares about is – god, why am I even explaining this to you?” Jared spits, unintentionally squeezing the glass so hard it slips out of his grasp and tumbles to the floor, shattering into a million pieces and sending milk flying everywhere. “Damn it!” he shouts.

“What happened?” Jeff asks loudly.

“Jay?”

Jared spins around and finds Jensen standing by the table, wearing an old, plaid pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Jeff is still calling Jared’s name through the phone, but Jared isn’t listening. He drops his phone onto the counter without even bothering to hang it up, and opens his mouth to say something to Jensen when he catches a flash of caramel-brown fur out of the corner of his eye. Six or seven things happen in slow motion, but at the same time way too fast for Jared to stop them. Sadie dashes forward toward the mess on the floor, obviously hoping to sneak a treat, and Jared lurches forward to stop her before she steps on shards of broken glass. Jensen shouts something and holds up a hand but Jared moves too quick and before his brain has caught up to what his eyes are seeing, his heel catches a puddle of milk and he skids across the tile, flailing ridiculously and only just managing to catch himself on the counter. He doesn’t fall but he does crack his elbow harshly into the edge of the stove, and he swears loudly as pain radiates up and down his arm.

“Sadie, go!” Jensen barks, snapping his fingers and Jared hears the clicks of her claws on the wood as she trots away. “ _Shit_ , are you okay?”

Jared braces himself on the granite countertop, breath coming in harsh pants and heart jack-rabbiting against his ribcage. His head is spinning and his stomach is twisting like he’s about to be sick, and he doesn’t even understand _why_ but he’s suddenly about eight seconds away from breaking down.

“Jared?” Jensen asks, his tone sharp and worried. “What’s – are you hurt?”

Jared shakes his head, but that’s about all he can manage. It’s too much. He’s still in that awful funk from yesterday, and Jensen was mad at him and he _hates_ when Jensen’s mad at him, and then Jeff had to go and be a dick over a scene Jared was _already_ a little insecure about (even though Jensen told him a million times he looked hot and had nothing to worry about), and he didn’t _mean_ to drop the stupid cup and now there’s milk and glass all over the kitchen floor and it’s just too damn much. He crumbles in on himself, sniffing and blinking tears out of his eyes, and pushes past Jensen; taking the stairs two and a time and throwing himself face first down onto his unmade bed.

He pushes his face into the pillows and screws his eyes closed tightly. He’s _not_ going to cry. He’s not, he’s not, he’s not. He has absolutely no excuse to. Having a bad couple of days is an acceptable reason to break down into tears when you’re thirteen. Not when you’re twenty-eight. But _shit_ , Jared is pissed off and frustrated and upset and he can feel his resolve quickly breaking. His lungs heave in giant gulps of air that slide like razorblades down his throat, and his eyes burn like when he sits too close to a campfire and gets smoke in them. It’s absurd and pathetic and just plain pitiful, but either way there’s still wetness seeping into the fabric under Jared’s face.

He’s not sure how long he lies there, sniffling and feeling sorry for himself, but it can’t be all that long before he hears the dry creak of his door opening.

“Did you step on the glass?” Jensen’s voice asks, quiet and faraway like he’s hovering in the doorframe, unsure if he should come in or not.

Jared just shakes his head, nose rubbing into the pillow. There are a few soft footsteps as Jensen pads into the room, and Jared jumps a little when he feels fingertips running down the bottoms of his bare feet.

“Sorry,” Jensen chuckles. “Didn’t mean to startle you, just … wanted to make sure.”

Jared stills and doesn’t say anything, burrowing his face further into the soft cotton. He really wishes Jensen would just leave him alone, but he’s pretty sure Jensen isn’t going to. A few seconds later, the mattress dips near his hips and a hand settles, warm and heavy, between Jared’s shoulder blades. Jensen doesn’t speak for a few long minutes; he just rubs Jared’s back and lets him drown in self pity.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” he asks gently, tucking one leg up on the bed so he can shift a little closer to Jared’s body.

Jared shrugs, his face hot and his throat wrenching around another sob. He’s such an idiot. _God_ , he just wants Jensen to go away so he can slide under the covers and hide from the world until he gets his head screwed back on straight. Or until he manages to ditch the fuckin’ ovaries he’s apparently grown today. Whichever comes first.

“I know you’re not laying here _literally_ crying over spilt milk, Jare,” Jensen says, a hint of a smile in his voice now. “Cause as funny as that would be, I don’t think anyone’s ever actually done that. Like, ever.”

“It’s not funny!” Jared cries, turning his head on the pillow to stare at the opposite wall and away from Jensen. “I could’ve hurt my dog!”

“I … okay, you’re right,” Jensen says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Look, just go away, will you?” Jared mumbles.

“Jay, please,” Jensen whispers. “You’re freaking me out. Who was on the phone? Did something happen?”

Jared sighs. “Nothing happened. I’m just being a giant six-year-old girl right now, okay? I’m – what’s that thing girls do where they get bitchy for a week?”

Jensen snickers. “You mean PMSing?”

“Yeah, _that_.” Jared gestures vaguely with his free hand. “I’m doing that. I know it’s stupid, but just – just let me wallow for a while. You can make fun of me later.”

“I’m not making fun of you. Even though I’m pretty sure guys don’t PMS.” Jensen crawls carefully over Jared and flops down next to him, propping himself up on one elbow and resting his knuckles over Jared’s cheek so he can’t turn his head away again. Jared somehow forces himself to open his eyes, and when he does Jensen’s face falls, like he didn’t realize Jared was actually crying until he saw it.

“Talk to me,” he murmurs, dragging the pad of him thumb over the wet skin under Jared’s left eye.

“It’s nothing, I told you,” Jared mutters, his face flushing like a sunburn in blistering shame as he turns his gaze down again. Meeting Jensen’s eyes right now, all wide and sincere and sympathetic, would have Jared losing any semblance of control he’s managed to hold on to. “Yesterday was a shitty day, and so far today isn’t much better. That’s all, I swear.”

Jensen nods thoughtfully. “So then how come you can’t look at me?”

Jared squeezes his eyes closed again as a few more tears spill out.

“Because this is so _stupid_ ,” he moans, digging a fist into the mattress. “I’m almost thirty, for fuck’s sake.”

“Everyone’s allowed to have a bad day once in a while,” Jensen points out, sliding his hand over Jared’s neck and resuming rubbing in small circles. “Doesn’t matter how old you are.”

Jared hiccups and sniffs and wishes it were possible to kick himself in the head. He barely holds himself back from flailing like he’s actually having some kind of man-child temper tantrum but even still he must look like a feeble, pathetic little kid. There’s no way Jensen’s still gonna be attracted to him at all after this. Hell, Jared’s pretty sure he’ll be lucky if Jensen still wants to be _friends_ after the way Jared’s acting right now.

“Tell me about it,” Jensen requests softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jared’s hair.

“It’s not even worth talking about,” Jared says, his voice muffled by the pillow. “It’s just – ”

“ _Don’t,_ ” Jensen cuts in sharply, and Jared looks up in surprise. Jensen’s face softens immediately and when he speaks again his voice is apologetic, but still firm. “Don’t say it’s stupid again. It’s not. If it’s something you’re feeling then it’s not stupid, okay? So just … talk to me. Please?”

Jared takes a deep, shaky breath and rolls over towards the edge of the bed, away from Jensen’s soft, understanding eyes. If he’s gonna do this; if he’s gonna actually talk about this like it’s a _real_ problem and not just Jared acting like a whiny, pre-pubescent teenager, then he’s not gonna look at Jensen while he’s doing it. He moves till he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress and drops his head down into his hands.

“It was just a bad day,” he repeats. “Starbucks got my coffee wrong, and then I kept messing up that damn stunt, and then the news about Harley, and it all just sorta … you know? It was one of those ‘one thing after another’ type days.”

“Okay,” Jensen says slowly. “And today?”

“Today …” Jared digs his palms into his temples. “I had a crappy sleep, and then I got woken up by Jeff telling me I’m basically a whore, and – ”

“Whoa, whoa, what?” Jensen scoots down the bed so he’s sitting beside Jared. “Jeff, as in your brother Jeff?”

Jared nods miserably. On some level, he knows Jeff didn’t really mean it like that. He was just picking on Jared, like big brothers are supposed to do. It’s practically in the handbook. But it still didn’t feel nice to hear. Jared feels like he works really hard to be the best he can at what he does. He wants the show to be amazing; he wants everyone who works so hard on it to be proud of what they’ve all created together, so to hear his work belittled like that … even as just friendly mocking … it hurt.

“And he – he called you a _what_?” Jensen asks in disbelief.

“He didn’t mean it like _that_ , he … I guess the episode with that damn workout scene was on last night and he saw it.” Jared sniffs again and wipes his nose of the back of his hand. “He thought it was stupid, just like I bet everyone else did.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Jensen shifts in closer and pushes Jared’s hair off his forehead. “You looked gorgeous, Jay.”

“That’s not the point,” Jared grumbles.

“I …” Jensen sighs, sounding somewhere halfway between sympathetic and frustrated. “Yeah, I know it isn’t. You wanna be respected as an actor, right? And you think people are gonna see that scene and think you’re just a piece of ass they’re using to boost ratings.”

Jared’s breath catches in his throat and he blinks a few times in wonder. Shit, sometimes it’s scary how well Jensen knows him.

“You think I don’t feel like that too sometimes?” Jensen asks. “Hell, you think I didn’t feel exactly the same way in Bloody when they had me in that god-awful black wife beater? Dude, I looked like K-Fed.”

Jared exhales on a short laugh. In reality, he thought his boyfriend looked out-of-this-world sexy in that tiny shirt; shoulders bulging and thin cotton clinging obscenely to his abs. He’s not ashamed to admit he totally popped wood in the theatre during that scene. Although it’s not really the right moment to actually voice that – it would sort of kill the point Jensen’s trying to make.

“It’s just part of the job, y’know? Besides, I’m sure Jeff was kidding,” Jensen continues. “Typical big brother stuff.”

Jared nods again. He knows that, he really does, he’s just wound himself up into this awful place where everything feels like a bigger deal than it probably is.

“What else?” Jensen asks, pushing his fingers down underneath the waistband of Jared’s boxers and gently scratching his fingers along Jared’s lower back.

“You … I came home and I was freaking out about Harley, and you …” Jared trails off, hanging his head. He can’t say it. It’s unbelievably pathetic to be this upset over something so insignificant.

“I wouldn’t listen to you,” Jensen finishes sadly. “I – I blew you off, didn’t I?”

“You told me to shut up,” Jared barely whispers, searing tears of shame spilling over his eyes once more as his heart aches. “You’ve never said that to me before. Everyone else in my life has, but not … not you. And I know I talk too much, I _know_ I’m annoying, but you … you always listened. You always made me feel like all my idiotic rambling was important somehow.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jensen whispers back.

“You don’t need to be sorry. I’m in a bad mood and I’m taking it out on you. I’m being stupid.” Jared knows starting to sound like a broken record but he can’t think of anything else to say.

Jensen leans in to rest his forehead against Jared’s temple. He lets his lips drag along Jared’s cheekbone for a minute, and then wraps his arms around Jared’s shoulders and pulls him forward. Jared goes willingly, collapsing against Jensen’s strong chest and soaking up the warmth.

“You’re not being stupid.” Jensen presses the words into Jared’s forehead between kisses, like he’s trying to brand them on Jared’s skin.

“Hey, um, how come you didn’t come to bed last night?” Jared asks quietly. “I mean you weren’t … were you mad at me?”

“’Course not, I – shit, the last thing I remember is sitting at the kitchen table. I must’ve passed out and then stumbled into the closest bed I could find. Shit,” Jensen swears again. “Bet it didn’t make things any better that you woke up alone, huh?”

Jared shakes his head.

“I’m sorry.” Jensen hugs him a little tighter. “I wasn’t mad at you at all, okay? You’re not annoying, and you _are_ important. Most important thing in ma’ whole world, baby. M’sorry if I ever made you think that wasn’t true, even for a second.”

Jared shakes his head again and grips a handful of Jensen’s shirt. “You didn’t. I just … like I said. Bad day, paired with a bad night’s sleep, and now I’m making it sound like it’s your fault when it isn’t.”

“That’s what I’m here for, right? You can take your bad moods out on me anytime you want.”

Jared manages a small laugh, and instantly his chest feels lighter. “That doesn’t seem fair,” he snickers, burying his face in Jensen’s neck.

“You do the same for me,” Jensen laughs back, nosing through Jared’s hair. “You put up with me being a grumpy bastard all the damn time. Maybe it’s about time I returned the favor.”

“I … thanks, Jen.” Jared inhales, letting the warm smell of Jensen’s skin invade his senses and soothe him. “You’re not, by the way. A grumpy bastard, I mean.”

Jensen snorts. “Yes I am. Sometimes we come home from a long day of shooting and I’m so moody I annoy _myself_. But you never say anything about it, and I always feel better eventually.”

Jared grins and lifts his head up. “Really? And how’s that?”

“Sex usually helps,” Jensen deadpans, and Jared cracks up.

“I guess that makes sense,” he chuckles, leaning in and kissing Jensen long and deep.

“Can you blame me?” Jensen murmurs, licking at the seam of Jared’s lips. “I’ve got this boyfriend, see, and we’ve been together a long time but he’s so unbelievably gorgeous that sometimes I still get dizzy just _lookin’_ at him. He’s the sweetest man on the planet, but get him in bed and he just about kills me. He’s got these amazing hands, and this tongue that can just shut my brain right down. So yeah, havin’ him all on top of me, feelin’ him everywhere? Kinda makes everything else seem pretty unimportant.”

Jensen’s voice is light and lilting but when Jared pulls back on a small gasp and gets hit with a full-frontal view of those sharp green eyes, he can tell Jensen _means_ what he’s saying. His chest swells so fast it takes his breath away a little, but at the same time he can’t help the way his cheeks heat up and he looks away.

“Jen …”

“Oh,” Jensen sighs, “and he’s so damn _cute_ when he’s blushing.”

Jared rolls his eyes. “Shut up!”

“Nope.” Jensen shakes his head affectionately, and then wets his lips and drags them along Jared’s neck. “Love you so much, Jay,” he says when he gets to Jared’s ear. “Never gonna stop tellin’ you all the reasons why.”

“Even when I’m being a bitch?” Jared asks, grinning from ear to ear and smoothing his hands up Jensen’s bare arms.

“Especially when you’re being a bitch,” Jensen answers. He lets Jared’s earlobe scrape gently between his teeth and drops his hands, running them tantalizingly slowly up Jared’s thighs to his hips. “Cause then I get to kiss it better.”

Jared laughs, soft and low and so deep it rumbles in his chest.

“Mm,” Jensen hums approvingly. “Love that sound.”

His thumbs rub circles into Jared’s hipbones, methodically lower until they dip below the elastic waistband, and his lips attach to the fluttering pulse-point on Jared’s neck and suck _hard_. Swells of arousal thrum through Jared’s veins, warm and gooey like melted chocolate and he moans, and Jensen smiles against his skin.

“Love that sound too,” Jensen whispers, pushing Jared’s boxers down enough to pull his mostly-hard cock out and give it a few firm strokes. “So? Whataya say? Gonna let me take care of you? See if I can put a smile back on that beautiful face?”

“Yeah,” Jared breaths, shuddering involuntarily as his dick fills with blood, pulsing hot and heavy in the circle of Jensen’s palm.

Jensen grins wolfishly, his eyes bright and flashing something dark and possessive, and stands up so he can nudge Jared back on the bed. Jared scoots toward the headboard, wiggling out of his boxers as he goes and watching with hungry eyes as Jensen strips himself of his cotton pants and t-shirt. When he gets up far enough to settle in on the pillows, Jared sinks gratefully into their ridiculously comfortable pillow-top California King mattress. He remembers the weekend they officially evolved from best-friends-slash-roommates to boyfriends, lovers, whatever – he remembers Jensen saying how Jared’s standard queen wasn’t nearly big enough for the two of them, and that they should get the best mattress money could buy because he was going to be spending a _lot_ of time in this bed. Jared made some joke about Jensen thinking he’d give it up so easily, and Jensen said … alright, Jared can’t remember exactly what Jensen said back then, especially not while present-time-Jensen is nipping along his collarbone, but it was something to the effect that he could spend hours just lying in the bed as long as it was Jared lying next to him. When Jared looks back on their life together, he’s pretty sure that was the moment he fell in love with the man currently sucking a bruise into the dip in his neck.

“Earth to Jared,” Jensen says, patting his arm. “I’m givin’ you some of my best moves up here.”

Jared twitches a little as Jensen brings him back out of his head. “Hm?”

“Where’d you go?” Jensen murmurs, eyes softening in concern as he smoothes the hair off Jared’s forehead.

“Nowhere,” Jared promises, reaching up to cup the back of Jensen’s neck in his hand and pull him back down for a kiss. “Just, y’know, thinkin’ about how much I love you.”

“Oh, _that_ ,” Jensen smirks against Jared’s lips.

“Yeah.” Jared shrugs sheepishly. “I’m back now. So, you gonna rock my world or what?”

“You bet your sweet ass I am,” Jensen quips, tugging Jared’s bottom lip between his teeth and then soothing the sting with his tongue.

He moves slowly down Jared’s neck and chest, torturously licking and sucking and biting every patch of skin he can reach. Jensen’s mouth is hot and wet against Jared’s goose-flesh, sending delicious little tickles outwards down his limbs like spiders. When he reaches a nipple and bites down gently, the sharp pinprick of teeth has Jared gasping audibly and arching off the bed. Jensen hums a pleased sound deep in his throat and smoothes the flat of his tongue over the tingling bud, pinching the other one between his dull nails. Jared’s rock hard now, leaking against his own hip, and when Jensen switches his hand for his mouth and starts sucking on Jared’s other nipple, he groans loud enough that one of the dogs starts whining from the floor below. But Jared barely hears it past the white noise of blood swirling in his own head and Jensen ignores it completely, dragging his tongue in a circle around the puckered flesh in his mouth and leaving Jared shivering and struggling to catch his breath.

He looks up at Jared from under thick, dark golden lashes, blinking in awe. “I always forget how responsive you are,” he says, voice coming out breathy even though it’s rough with lust.

“Is that weird?” Jared asks, insecurity winning out over arousal for the moment and making his own voice waver uncertainly.

“God, _no_ ,” Jensen insists on a heavy exhale. “It’s fuckin’ hot. Makes me wanna see if I could make you come just from this.” He licks over Jared’s nipple again to emphasize his point. “Drive you so crazy with just my mouth and my teeth that you can’t hold back anymore.”

Jared moans again and tightens his grip on Jensen’s shoulder. “ _Jesus_ , please don’t,” he laughs shakily. “I think you’d kill me.”

Jensen grins like he’s pleased with himself. “Fine.” He dips his head again, taking a few of the sparse hairs between Jared’s pecs in his teeth and tugging gently. “Think maybe there’s other parts of you that could use my mouth right now instead?”

Jared closes his eyes against another wave of heat; he has to bite his lip to keep a cavalcade of filth from spilling out of his mouth. “Thought you were gonna take care of me,” he points out when his vision manages to refocus. “Don’t think it counts if I have to beg for it."

Jensen chuckles warmly and presses a kiss to Jared’s sternum. “You know, you’re awfully mouthy for someone who’s not doing any of the work,” he jokes, smacking Jared’s thigh lightly. “But alright, point taken. You realize this makes me, like, the best boyfriend of all time, right?”

“You already were,” Jared says softly, running his fingers slowly through Jensen’s short hair.

Jensen winks at him, and then shuffles a little further down the bed. Jared grits his teeth and steels himself for the vacuum of pleasure that grabs hold of his spine whenever Jensen sucks his cock, but Jensen surprises him by bypassing it completely – blowing warm air over his balls, making them prickle and tighten, and then moving lower and licking a stripe up his hole. Jared cries out, half in surprise and half in overwhelming pleasure. It’s not something Jensen does as often as he’d like, if only because usually they’re either too rushed or too caught up in it to take their time like this, but Jared _loves_ what Jensen’s talented tongue can do to him down there. It’s a different kind of bliss than anything else they do; having almost nothing to do with sucking or thrusting but more with hot breath and a soft, wet tongue in a place that was probably never meant to feel either of those things. But it’s the dirtywrong of it that makes it so god damn _good_. Jared arches off the mattress again as his legs fall instinctively further apart to make room for Jensen’s shoulders. Jensen works the little hole with kitten-licks, gently and patiently until it relaxes and leaves Jared quivering; whole body sinking down into oblivion. Then Jensen sucks at it gently, getting it loose and wet and Jared lets out a long moan.

“ _Shit_ , Jensen,” he rasps. “Gonna fuckin’ come f’you keep doin’ that.”

Jensen ignores him, responding only with a slurping noise that should totally be gross but is instead so friggin’ _sexy_ that Jared is absolutely _not_ responsible for the embarrassing noise that slips past his lips. Jensen works a finger in steadily to the first knuckle, nothing but tacky spit to ease the way which makes going a little less smooth than normal but Jared _feels_ it; he feels every stick and catch of skin. Jensen keeps swirling his tongue in generous circles around the super sensitive flesh where he and Jared are connected, and by the time he’s worked up to three fingers Jared’s incredibly impressed with himself that he’s managed to even stay conscious. He’s so hard it hurts, leaking precome steadily over his own abdomen but it’s bottlenecked – it all wants to explode out of him but there’s not enough room so it’s stuck, throbbing painfully with his pulse at the head of his cock. The rest of his body is so overworked with sensation it’s almost numb, but at the same time so tingly and woozy he can’t open his eyes for fear that he’ll just pass out from the loss of blood to his brain. Just as he’s having the disjointed, half-formed thought that this must be what having a stroke feels like, Jensen pulls his face back and hides it against Jared’s hip, puffing harsh breaths over Jared’s twitching erection.

“I can’t … taste so fuckin’ good, Jay,” he pants. “Moan so pretty for me, not gonna last much longer. Gotta …”

“Yeah,” Jared agrees gratefully, eyes still squeezed tightly shut as he reaches blindly for Jensen. “C’mon, Jen, fuck me.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Jensen groans, body tensing for a moment as he breathes deep and slow like a marathon runner, and Jared can picture him clamping his fingers down around his own cock to keep from coming.

Jared feels for him, he really does, but he’s about a thousand pounds of sex endorphins passed the point of rational thought. He just wants Jensen in him right the fuck now.

“ _Please_ , baby, need it now,” he babbles, not even sure whether or not his words are coming out coherently. “Don’t care if it doesn’t last, just – fuck, Jen – please.”

Jensen nods in agreement against Jared’s leg, and somewhere beyond the funhouse mirror that is his brain right now Jared can vaguely make out the sound of Jensen spitting, and then the blunt head of his cock is nudging up against Jared’s body and slipping in passed the loosened ring of muscle. Jared moans for what feels like the millionth time, long and low this time as Jensen pushes in all the way; not pausing even for a second to let Jared adjust but Jared’s so far gone that he doesn’t need it. His tight channel sucks Jensen in and holds him there, and when Jensen bottoms out against Jared feels like he can finally let out a giant breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Jensen pauses, even as he grunts like it’s causing him pain to hold still (which, Jared thinks flimsily, it probably is) and blinks blearily down at Jared – making sure.

“Fuck me,” Jared says again, loving the flicker of need and want that passes over Jensen’s features and pulling Jensen in close to attack his lips as the smaller man rolls his hips once, experimentally, and then just goes for it. He rocks in and out with such force that Jared’s body inches up the bed a little with each blow; hitting his prostate like a dart to a bullseye with every thrust and Jared cries out; dizzy in pleasure and holding tight to Jensen’s shoulders just to keep himself grounded. Less than a dozen thrusts later Jensen stills above him, teeth sinking into the meat of Jared’s shoulder as he comes; filling Jared up from the inside and Jared finally lets himself go. The weight of his orgasm hits him in the chest like somebody dropped an anvil on him – sudden and harsh and so powerful it knocks the wind out of him and he’s left gasping and spiraling and just hoping to hell he’s gonna remember how to breathe again once it’s all over.

Jensen drops his sticky, lax body down on top of him as Jared pants and tries to lull his erratic, racing heartbeat to a pace that doesn’t make him feel like he’s about to blow a tire at any second and hurtle uncontrollably into a fatal crash and burn. Jared’s not exactly sure how long they lie there, bonded together by come and sweat and something else that he doesn’t really have a word for, but finally Jensen manages a shaky laugh and lifts himself up as much as is necessary to pull out and collapse down to the mattress next to Jared’s still catatonic form.

“Well? How’d I do?” he asks breathlessly. “You feelin’ better now?”

Jared glances over at him and tries to convey ‘are you fuckin’ _kidding_ me?’ with just a look because his lips have forgotten how to form words. Jensen grins, a familiar expression painting his features that looks a little like self-satisfaction but a lot more like genuine affection or maybe even love, and then he rolls back in and wraps himself around Jared.

“Okay, nap now,” he concedes, pressing a kiss to the top of Jared’s shoulder and then resting his head on it. “You can hand in your evaluation later.”

Jared smiles weakly and lifts his lead-filled arms enough to wrap them around Jensen. He’s warm and comfortable and sluggish like he’s floating in a giant vat of melted marshmallows, but he still manages to mutter “Idiot” fondly into Jensen’s hair before he slips fluidly into sleep; any leftover thoughts of his bad day completely forgotten.


End file.
